Only You
by x-Radcliffe-x
Summary: is begging you I need some advice on how to do the next part, so please help me out if you would. Harry is having a hard time dealing with the death of his Godfather. He's shutting out everyone trying to break in... that is until the right person comes al


Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter, nor any of its characters. Trust me, if I did Harry and Draco would be together by now, as well as a number of other things. But I'm glad to say that the incidents of and surrounding Harry Potter are thanks to one Miss J.K. Rowling. I'd probably crack under the pressure and commitment. Besides, JKR is one hell of a writer, is she not?

Warnings: A little angst, but I don't know how much actual self-mutilation I will put in this. Will be smut, eventually. And Slash. Gotta love the boyxboy-ness. xD That's all for now, I think.

A/N: For any of you who read my other story Do You Dare, don't worry. I'm still writing that one. I just had this pop into my head as well, and I wanted to get it out there to you. To show that I mean that, I've added the next chapter of it for you. Well, here you go then.

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The rain looked like it was never going to end, raindrops licking the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Sighing, the raven-haired boy tried to block out the incredibly dull argument between his two best friends, Ron and Hermione- something about Hermione still writing Viktor Krum.

"Ronald, Viktor and I are still friends. _Just _friends." She looked at him crossly. "And just because you and I are dating, does not mean that I am going to abandon my friends, as I wouldn't expect you to."

"But Hermione! I bet that he doesn't think you're just friends. I trust you, it's just him."

Yes, Hermione and Ron had been an item for about two months, since the beginning of the summer after sixth year. Although he knew it was selfish, Harry was annoyed at how the two had gotten together so quickly after Sirius' death.

Harry closed his emerald eyes tightly. He had told himself repeatedly that he was **not **to think about that, not especially when he was around others. The last thing he needed was for them to see him cry, pouring their _understandings_ for him.

Ever since that horrible day in the Department of Mysteries Harry had been having terrible nightmares. Well, actually they were more really terrible memories than nightmares, as they usually consisted of Harry standing there, held back by Remus Lupin, watching Sirius' face as he fell slow motion behind the rippling black veil.

Harry shuddered. A lot had changed about him over the summer, both in his attitude and appearance. For starters, Harry had taken to wearing black eyeliner and nail polish, in mourning for his godfather. As well, he had created a rather disturbing addiction of inflicting pain on himself. No one knew of this, of course, as Harry was careful to heal up the wounds and place concealment charms on the scars while he was in public.

Hermione and Ron had both been concerned, especially with his new _gothic_ attitude. He was barely speaking to them, and seemed, to them both, to be distant towards everyone. Harry had only spent little more than a week at the Dursley's before he was taken, by a group of Order members, to Grimmauld place. Now, however, it was half belonging to Harry, half belonging to Lupin.

During his stay there for the rest of the summer, Harry learned of many things, the first of which was Hermione and Ron's newfound relationship, which he discovered his first night there when he caught the two all but shagging in his and Harry's room. Also, the house now belonged half to Lupin, half to himself. Apparently, Sirius and Lupin were lovers, and the blow of his death had really hit the werewolf hard.

Harry had also discovered something about himself, which he knew that he always had subconsciously known; he was gay. It made sense, really, when he thought about it. The only girl he had ever had an interest was Cho Chang, and he really hadn't cared much for the time they shared, particularly the kiss. With all of this proof, Harry had barely needed to deny it. Of course, as he was fairly distant with everyone right now, no one knew about this either. The last thing he needed right now was for Hermione to have a long talk with him about how she was okay with it and understood, while Ron (as he knew how homophobic he was) became totally disgusted with him and refused to be anywhere near him, lest Harry try to seduce him.

Harry was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it wasn't until Ron had nearly poked a bruise in his arm that Harry became aware that they had been trying to get his attention. "Harry, mate, we're nearly there. Best change into your robes," Ron said quietly, as though afraid he might hurt Harry if he spoke too loud. Hermione and Ron, he saw, were already in their robes, and must had given up on their argument, as Hermione was all but sitting in Ron's lap, holding hands with hi, and looking up at him lovingly.

Shrugging, Harry grabbed his school wear and headed towards the loo, thinking that he could not spend another second with the _happy couple_. Once inside an empty lavatory, Harry proceeded to change into his black uniform robes. After, he grasped the sides of the sick and stared hard into the mirror. He could hardly recognise himself. It was hard to believe that only just last year he had been so happy, when he now felt so miserable.

Feeling the train begin to slow, Harry broke his eye contact with the mirror and slipped out of the bathroom, making his way slowly to his shared compartment with Hermione and Ron. When he arrived, however, he was greeted by the two kissing, Hermione now actually sitting on Ron's lap.

He gave a quick clearing of his throat, and muttered, "I think we're here."

The snogging couple broke apart quickly, faces reddening. "Oh, th-thanks, Harry," Hermione replied, giving him an embarrassed smile.

They gathered their trunks and such together in silence, and headed out to find an empty carriage. Harry heard Hagrid's booming voice in the distance, calling forth the first years so he could take them to the castle by boat across the lake, just as he found an empty carriage. Just before he got in, he noticed the scaly, black winged creature to which it was attached, and closed his eyes momentarily, remembering how he and his friends had ridden them to the Ministry of Magic because if Harry's gullibility.

The carriage ride went by silently, save for the sounds of Pig hooting excitedly in his cage. When the ride was over, Harry hastily grabbed his belongings and hurried up the steps, not wanting the rain to ruin and smudge his eye makeup.

The Great Hall, as it often was the first day back, was noisier than usual, and Harry was not looking forward to eating with the other Hogwarts students, remembering that Dumbledore could have told them all anything last term at the year-end-feast, when he was absent from it. Harry knew it was coming, he could feel it. Not one minute after he had taken a seat at the Gryffindor table, Harry sensed the eyes on him.

"Er, Harry?" Neville asked cautiously. "Is that you, mate?"

Harry had barely opened his mouth to speak when he saw a bright flash. "Wow, Harry! What happened?" Still blind from the camera flash, Harry couldn't quite make out who was so excitedly addressing him, though he knew it had to be a Creevy, most likely Colin.

Then came the whispers and Harry just wanted to block them out. _It's just eyeliner, you gossiping fucks!_ Harry wanted to scream. He caught snippets of people's hushed conversations. "I don't believe it!"… "_Harry?_ Is that really him?"… "He looks bloody brilliant."

Deciding to ignore them all, Harry pulled out his black notebook and quill, and started to scribble and doodle random things. Sometime after that, Ron and Hermione had joined him, though he barely took notice. Then Dumbledore rose from him seat, shooting Harry a slightly bothered and cautious look, before getting on with his speech, to which Harry tuned out.

Just as he was finishing up a mini-sketch of a snake, he noticed that the Headmaster had stopped his annual droning, and the food had arrived. It looked, and smelled delicious. Harry piled some fluffy mashed potatoes and roast chicken onto his plate, as well as several other food items. Beside him it looked as though Hermione was attempting a conversation with Ron, but was failing horribly as Ron's mouth was completely filled with various foods.

She sighed, turning to Harry. "Looks good, doesn't it?" Hermione asked cheerfully enough, though still a little bit cautiously.

"Fine," Harry replied flatly.

"Are you alright Harry?" the bushy haired girl tried again, before quickly adding, "Oh of course you aren't. I'm sorry, that was a really stupid question."

All Harry could do was shrug. He looked back at his plate and looked at the food, pushing it around slightly with his fork, before realizing that he really wasn't hungry. He stood quickly. "Er, I'm not really hungry, actually. I'll see you two upstairs," he mumbled.

They both looked up. Ron, his mouth full of mashed potatoes, said, "Ulree, 'arry. Theeu"

Hermione just looked worried. "Harry, you'll tell me if anything's wrong, won't you? I care about you, I really do."

Mumbling his okays, Harry turned and strode out of the Great Hall, eyes flashing at him as he did so. He had barely made it out the doors when, surprise, surprise, the greying Albus Dumbledore appeared behind him. He merely looked at Harry with concern, the oak doors swinging shut behind him. This was not the first time that Dumbledore had seen Harry like this; he had made the occasional visit to Grimmauld place, to see how Harry was and for other various Order business.

They stood in silence, before Harry decided to break it. "Wow, isn't it a bit early for you to be talking to me? Usually you wait until the middle and end of the school year before you willingly come up to me." Harry knew he was being extremely rude, but he didn't care. What he was saying was the truth, and Dumbledore knew it. Besides, he was still a little pissed over his and Dumbledore's talk at the end of last year.

However Dumbledore didn't show any signs that he was angered or annoyed by Harry's tone or lack of respect. "Understandable, understandable. I merely wanted to see how you were doing, Harry."

"Peachy," Harry replied with purposeful cheek. "And you?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm serious, Harry. How are you doing? The last time we met you seemed to be doing quite badly."

This really annoyed Harry. Sure, _he_ knew that he wasn't doing that great, but he didn't appreciate being told that other people thought he was too, though he knew that they did. "Oh really? Well, if you'd really like to know, I'm doing worse than shitty. I can't sleep because my dreams are filled with nightmares of watching my late godfather falling through that fucking black veil, and I have to appetite whatsoever. Oh yeah, and I hate my life and I just want to be left alone."

Dumbledore reached out a hand to place on Harry's shoulder, but he pulled away from the older wizard. "Harry, I know that this is rough, and it has really hit you hard. Believe me, I understand. But I'm a little worried for you; all of us are. We can barely tell who you are."

Harry had nothing to say. He just stared hard at the floor, not willing himself to look into the man's twinkling eyes. Dumbledore just sighed. "Well, if you don't want to talk, then very well. Just know this Harry," this time when he reached out his hand, Harry didn't have a chance to walk back, as his eyes were glued to the floor. "Your friends love you. Quite dearly, I might add, and they are immensely scared for your part. There are dark times ahead, Harry, and if you keep pushing everyone away, you will find yourself to be very lonely."

With that the old man left, leaving Harry standing there for a moment, filled with a mixture of emotions. He was annoyed at Dumbledore for talking to him, yet a little touched by what he said. He didn't want to scare his friends, but the truth was he was scaring himself. He was afraid of what he had become, what he would become… but he knew that he couldn't go back; it was too late for him.

Suddenly Harry felt cold, as though there was a nasty draft coming in from an open window. He hugged himself tightly. He didn't want to be alone; in fact it was what scared him the most. But he also didn't want to be with anyone, not just yet anyways. This kind of annoyed Harry; wanting to be alone and not all at the same time. It was frustrating.

Then he heard footsteps bouncing off the floor and echoing in the corridor, becoming louder slowly, as though the person walking was afraid to be seen. Before Harry had time to go anywhere, a figure stepped into view.

Draco Malfoy. He seemed to have noticed Harry and stopped, their eyes locking. That's when Harry noticed it; there, on Malfoy's pale face, was a purple bruise, looking roughly the size of a hand, along with a nice bleeding lip.

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A/N: Okay, so there you are. A new story. For those of you who haven't read my other story Do You Dare I urge you to, simply because I'd love your thoughts of that too. Please, review.

And please, I need people's opinions on this. I wanted to know what I should do with the POV next. Like, should I keep it like it is in this so far, and the Harry Potter books? Or should it be like the way it is now, but for Draco as well. I mean, like sometimes having what Draco's thinking, and having what he does and what happens to him when Harry isn't there. How it changes in my other story. I hope you understand that.

Thanks. And PLEASE review… it would mean so much to me. And tell me what you think I should do. Please. :)

- Alex


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